


Forgot

by a_pirate_on_the_left



Category: Luke Cage (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, I didn't know how to title this, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Violence, Shades WITHOUT sunglasses, This one is sad and heartbreaking, and a flashback, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:06:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9451550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_pirate_on_the_left/pseuds/a_pirate_on_the_left
Summary: "Do you remember me from when I was a kid?”“No.”No. Of course she didn't, he didn't even looked like the skinny kid he once was.He forgot too; for a while. But when memories hit him he knew he couldn't get rid of them at all.There are debts you can't repay. Sometimes someone saves you and you will never be even with them. Never.He often thought about meeting her again. There were no scenarios in his mind that could fit in real life. And yet there they were. Of course she didn't remember him; it would have been hard explaining her, it wasn't even the moment for an open hearted talk. No. He would have left the past were it belonged. Buried and forgotten in the darkest corners of their minds.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This took me half an hour to imagine it. And three to write it down. Because gosh it was heartbreaking. Remind me to never write down such sad fanfics.  
> Also I hate non-dialogue fics, and I don't read authors comments. But I hope you might.  
> If you like it or think terribly about it let me know. Any kind of feedback is apreacieted.
> 
> Have a nice reading time if you like being hurt. Really it's sad.  
> I'm heartbroken. I have an exam tomorrow and I wrote this.  
> please forgive imprecision and english mistakes.

That wasn't the first time the boy accompanied his mother to Mama Mable's house.  
They run out of the few money they had, again; his father took the news terribly as usual, rage hitting that skinny kid and his mother on their chest and face, leaving brusises that would have last longer than the money they were about to lend.

The Cotton's Club, althoug was loud and crowded at night, seemed stil and empty in the daytime hours.  
And just behind the silent dance room and the empty tables: Mama Mables's office and house.  
The boy could hear low voices on the other side of the door; his mother knocked and without opening the door said outloud her name.  
A woman's voice answered from the inside, telling them to wait a few minutes.  
The boy and his mother sat at one of those tables, the kid studying the embriodered tablecloths and the shining diamond shaped glasses, each waiting for rich men to be fhiltied and broken.  
The woman form the inside finally opened the door, she greeted the kid's mom like an old friend, the woman's smile fading at the sight of his mother's black eye.  
Business, Mama Mable explained to the boy's mom in a serius voice, letting them inside.  
They sat on the couch in the living room, on the left of a small piano, just in front of a long table that was in the middle of the room.  
They always chatted lightly before talking about more serious staff that the kid rarely understood, Mama Mable would have asked him how old he was, and as for the last five months that they passed by after his birthday he would have answered shily: "ten, ma'am".  
His mother explained him that even if some people were friendly they still had to give them respect, and that that woman deserved all their respect for everything she did for them.

The kid lost track of their conversation after few minutes, his belly aching terribly, still he stood silent. Lost in thought the boy got caught by surprise by his mother bursting in tears; Mama Mable took her hand and walked her outside, somewhere the kid could have not hear or followed them.  
The two women left him on that sofa, alone, for what it seems to him might have been hours.

The kid liked that house not just because it was enormous compared to his, or because it always semlled of good food; no he could have spent days on that couch without being noticed by others; having fun watching others misfourtune and adventures.  
A big guy once arrived with his pockets full of money, Mama Mable thanked him and called him 'Pop' then handed him some of the money.  
The kid wanted that too: a really cool name and so many money that couldn't fit in his pockets.

That day was a strange exception, the house was silent and apparently empty.  
But then suddently a noise from upstairs told him something was about to happen:  
"No! Out!" A woman said outloud. The answer she recived was a loud slap the boy thought from the sound he heard, then a door slammed violently.  
A man came down the stairs few seconds later, his shirt outside the trousers, his tie undid.  
The woman whoever she was, the kid thought, could have had a lot worst, for his experience answering like that to his father would have been much more painfully than a simple slap.

Fixing his clothes finally the man saw him.  
  
"Are you alone in here?" the man asked kindly.  
  
The boy nodded in assent. The man's worried face became a big smile of relief.  
  
Sitting next to him the man went on: "Have you seen Mama Mable?"  
  
"She left with my mom a while ago."  
  
The man weighted his answer for a while, looked down at his waist and then looked back at him. His voice softer than before.  
  
"Do you know when they'll be back?"  
  
"No"  
  
"Well.. do you have anythign to do here?" He asked with a friendly smile "Would you like to play a game?"  
  
The kid face lighted in joy. "Of course"  
The man moved closer to him untill their legs were touching.  
  
"But it's a man thing" he said in a lower tone. As if they were shareing a secret.  
  
"This means that if you are a man you can't tell anyone, ok?"  
  
"Sure!" the kid said. He was a man.  
The man kept his friendly smile while moving a hand on the kid's knee, slowly moving up to his tight.  
  
"Pete!"  
  
The angry scream from the other side of the room made them both jump. The man standing up hid his hands behind his back before relaxing after he realized who spotted them.  
"Relax Mariah. Why are you so upset?" He asked playing the fool.  
  
The girl stepped fastly in front of them. She grabbed the kid's arm and pulled him of the couch behind her.  
She then slapped her uncle with all the strenght she had, the older man stepped back almost falling both for the surprise and the force in that slap.  
He slapped her back. His ring breaking her lip. Her face already burning for the slap she recived few minutes before.  
She didn't stumble. She looked at him fiercly. The rage burning in her.  
She took the kid's arm once again and carried him outside.

 

 

 

That day he learnt how to stand: fiercly and fearless -even if that ment you would be beaten.

But he was ridicolously old when he fully understood what really happened.  
He was 19 and condamned to six months of prison.  
He had always been clever. That's why he never got caught before. Everyone else including, Cottonmouth got arrested for the first time at most at 16.  
A minor crime a surveiling camera and a shitty lawyer, brought him in prison for the first time. Even if he grew in the street and he considered himself to be tought he had to reconsider himself that time. He didn't ended up in some sort of workhouse for young criminal. He was in a real prison with real men who were there for real crimes, not naive boys caught robbing rich people just outside Harlem.

He stood by himself all the time.  
Men looking at him like a fresh piece of meat.  
He never fell completely asleep, nor before, nor after three men, waiting for him in the shower first beated him and then raped him.

He didn't want to be in the infirmary. Nothing happened to him. Bruises never killed anyone. But he was so young that the guards didn't let him choose.  
The doctor gave him a painkiller. The man waited for a while for him to tell what happend. But after the pill the young man stood still silent.  
"It wont take long" the doctor said, gently resting his hand on the boy's knee.  
Memories fleshed in front of him like a cold shower. Days he had long forgotten and buried where he could have never been able to find them again, rose at the surface of his mind.  
After that moment the memory of that far day never left him. He couldn't understand how in the world he could forget something like that. How he could have not understood before.  
And then he was back in the infirmary the doctor looking at him.  
"Nothing happend to me!" He answered bitterly. Stood up. And left the room.

 

 

 

  
On the outside of the house the garden smelled sweet and fresh.  
The girl made him sit on a small bench. Her lips red for the blood, no matter how many times she washed it away with her hand.  
"Are you okay?" she asked.  
He nodded. He couldn't understand what that man did wrong.  
"Sometimes," she said triyng to dry her eyes "some people want to hurt you, even if they're kind. "  
It was a fight between the man and that girl. He just happened to get in the middle he realized.  
"So if someone hurts you, or touches you, you have to promise me you wont let them. ok?"  
He nodded. As he used to do when a grow up asked something he didn't know the answer to.  
"You're a good boy.." She stopped. "What's you're name?"  
"Hernan" he answered.  
"You're a good boy Hernan. It's nice to meet you. " she said genuinely kind.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh and read the summary. again after the fic. trust me


End file.
